Fairytale Of Downton
by Nova Super
Summary: Spanning from Christmas Eve, 1899 to New Year's Day, 1900. The family have gathered at Downton Abbey for celebrations of the winter season though it seems this year the festivities might not go off completely without a hitch. Patrick has a secret, Marmaduke and Rosamund flirt, Mary and Freddie fight, Violet disapproves as usual and Robert and Cora with-stand their own troubles.
1. On That Cold Christmas Eve

_My very first Downton fic - figured why not introduce myself to the fandom with a little festive multi-chapter? Not exactly based on Fairytale of New York by The Pogues but I've taken a little inspiration from the song for the chapter titles. General disclaimer: I don't own the mentioned song or Downton Abbey etc. And also, this fic is rated T but at time it's quite a highly rated T so read at your own peril! Enjoy, bye!  
_

* * *

**Chapter One: When You First Took My Hand On That Cold Christmas Eve  
**_December 24th, 1889  
_

"And remember not to say anything or Granny will get cross."

"But why?"

"Never mind why, Edith! Really, if I bothered answering all of your questions I wouldn't have time to do anything. My life would be wasted on being your... your answerer."

"What's an answerer?"

"Edith!"

"Sorry... Will Granny be very cross if I can't be quiet?"

"Yes, Granny says that children should be heard and not seen... I think. Which means we must be very grown-up and not talk at the table unless someone talks to us. Didn't the governess tell you all of this? Really you have a mind like a dollshouse."

"A dollhouse? Why?"

"Dollshouses have a lot of doors."

"So?"

"And windows."

"Why isn't Cousin Freddie in here yet?"

"He's late."

At that moment the adults paraded into the parlour. Mary grabbed Edith's arm in an iron-grip, threatening to cut off her blood circulation if she dared to utter a word. Patrick and Violet entered first, followed by Robert and Cora and finally Rosamund and Marmaduke. Edith gazed at them all in awe. She'd seen them done up in their posh day-wear on rare occasion but she'd not yet been allowed into the dining room during meal times, being only 5. Edith's little mouth dropped open as she looked up at her mother in wonder, absorbing every detail of her appearance. The way she giggled charmingly as her father spoke sweet things Edith couldn't possibly understand at that age in her mother's ear. The fabulous white feathers that she donned in her hair, the shimmer of shining beads on her emerald-green dress, the long black gloves that covered her dainty pale hands. Edith rather very much wanted to be an adult in that moment.

"Edith close your mouth," Mary hissed, inflicting her with a warning stare. Freddie slipped into the room unnoticed and walked over to join them. He and Mary exchanged a knowing glance as he smoothed back his dark hair and assumed his place.

"Oh Edith, darling don't you look such a big girl all done up?" Cora bobbed down in front of her and smiled, pushing back her second daughter's wild little blonde ringlets.

"Thank you, Mama," Edith smiled, turning to Mary for encouragement. Mary nodded, rolling her eyes. When Edith turned back, Cora had rejoined Robert, her heart sank just a little.

During dinner, the adults happily chatted away while Freddie and Mary whispered between themselves. Edith struggled to keep up with what the adults were saying, focussing on eating her dinner as she'd been taught to by the governess - Devil Helger as Mary so often called her.

"And when shall we expect _that woman_?" Violet was asking Cora, disdain dripping from her expression as she forked a bean sprout.

"I believe we're to expect her on the 27th. She'll arrive just before luncheon."

"The 27th? Why on Earth would one travel right around Christmas?" Violet looked around in confusion but nobody answered her. Cora bit her lower lip to refrain a smile as she sneaked a glance across the table at Robert who was focussing hard on his food.

"It'll be a pleasure to meet Cora's mother again," Rosamund piped up in one of her brief moments where her thoughts weren't distracted with inappropriately touching Marmaduke underneath the dinner table. "It'll be the first time you meet her, won't it Marmaduke?"

"I believe it-umph!"

"Are you quite alright, chap?" Patrick asked, frowning in concern while Marmaduke shot the evils at a giggling Rosamund. Discreetly, he managed to slip a hand beneath the table to massage his sore spot.

"Quite well thank you, Patrick. I just... lost my train of thought and said 'um.'"

Rosamund broke out in a fit of silent laughter while the rest of the adults looked at him with mixed suspicion and disbelief.

"Good as long as everything's alright," Patrick said carefully, stifling a yawn as he fidgeted with the collar of his shirt.

"Rosamund, control yourself. That behaviour is completely inappropriate in front of children," Violet snapped, turning back to observe her husband.

While out of her mother's vision, Rosamund made silent eye contact with Cora just as she was sipping from her wine, Rosamund crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. Cora spluttered rather ungraciously into her drink, while Marmaduke hid his amusement behind a napkin. Violet's death stare settled on Cora, clearly it was time to play mean.

"Cora do you have an announcement for us this Christmas?"

"I... umm," Cora frowned, looking over at Robert. "I don't think so?"

"Well what a shame..." Violet sighed, pausing to collect everyone's attention. "I recall asking the same question the previous Christmas - and even the Christmas before that but if not then..." Violet tilted her head in apparent disappointment and Cora realised her intent.

"Mama, there's no need to bring that up now. It's Christmas Eve, we should be talking festivities," Robert glanced across the table at his wife but she didn't look up, her head hung, almost hiding the rosy stain of humiliation on her cheeks. She should have been expecting Violet to play that card, for a while the subject had been left alone to a point that Cora almost believed it might go away.

"Ready to go through?" Rosamund asked, breaking the silence that had collected in the room. The women rose from their seats, along with Mary, Edith and Freddie and half the party went through into the dining room.

"Mama will say goodnight to us now," Mary whispered to Edith.

"But I'm not nearly ready to-"

"Shh!" Mary slapped a hand over her mouth. Edith squirmed out of her hold, a sulky pout on her lips. The three of them lined up, Rosamund pressed a kiss to Freddie's cheek and bade goodnight to her nieces before joining Violet at the card table. Cora gathered her dress and perched on one of the sofas, beckoning Mary and Edith over.

"Well done both the of you, you were so very well behaved this evening," Cora smiled at them, kissing a reluctant Mary and then turning to Edith. "Well done, darling."

"Goodnight mama," Edith whispered.

"Goodnight, my dear one."

Cora watched the three of them tail out of the room and went to take her seat at the round mahogany table. Six card games later and Violet was fed up of losing, it seemed karma was not in her favour as Cora victoriously claimed title as the winner in every game despite Violet picking what they played. (All Cora every seemed to want to play was Dumpling Euchre and Violet was convinced that was because it was an American game and as such she would no doubt know how to cheat.) Rosamund was unbothered, after the men had joined them she looked most distracted in their last two games.

Violet excused their matches and went to join Patrick. Rosamund, finally released from the obligation of post-dinner Rummy, went to join Marmaduke on the sofa. Cora met Robert beside the fireplace.

"Manage to survive mama's wrath?" Robert grinned, turning his back to the roaring flames to meet Cora's waiting arms.

"So it seems. She is not very happy, she lost every game."

"No matter, so long as I have you all to myself now," Robert quirked an eyebrow and Cora smiled knowingly, sliding her hands up his arms to settle on his broad shoulders.

"I've bought your Christmas present this year."

"Mm and I'm most excited to see it." Robert was always very predictable but very successful when it came to presents for his wife. Every year, no matter what the occasion, she received some item of expensive jewellery while everyone else got either a hunting novel, wristlet or pocket watch.

"It's a special one this Christmas."

"It is?" Cora's enthusiasm dropped ten notches.

"It is," Robert's look of childish pride instilled some amusement in Cora and she couldn't help but smile as he beamed at her, his hands slipping down her waist and settling at her lower back.

"Patrick are you quite sure you're fine? You look terribly warm," Violet muttered.

"I'm fine, it's just the heat from being so close to the fire."

"We're not beside the fire, Patrick. We're next to the window!"

"Oh..."

Meanwhile on the sofa, Rosamund received dirty little promises from her husband while his hands roamed her thighs.

"Ohh..." Rosamund moaned as he assaulted her with kisses down her throat, her eyes rolled back in her skull. Marmaduke stopped his teasing.

"Keep watch or I'll have to stop," he muttered. Rosamund's eyes fluttered open, settling on her parents while Marmaduke's pressure on her inner thigh increased as his touch went where she craved.

"It's a most disconcerting thing to be watching my parents while you do this to me..."

Marmaduke chuckled, dipping his head lower as his lips took an intrepid journey down his wife's skin, reaching as far as her low-cut dress would allow.

"Marmaduke!" Rosamund gasped, loud enough to capture the attention of the two other couples in the room. Marmaduke whipped his head up, headbutting his wife's chin on his way up. Guilt scrawled across his face as he felt eyes on him from everywhere.

"Rosamund, I'm sorry," he apologised, his hand clinging to hers while she rubbed her jaw with a sour frown.

Violet strutted over to their settee and separated them both, plonking herself between the two of them as though they were naughty children. Despite her pains, Rosamund couldn't help but sneak a mischievous look at Marmaduke as he sat on the other side of Violet looking quite shell-shocked.

"I think we'll be going to bed now," Robert announced. "Goodnight everyone."

"Goodnight," Cora added as they made their way out of the room.

"Well, I think we'll be heading upstairs too..." Rosamund rose from her seat in trepidation, as though waiting for Violet to haul her butt to the lions but she stayed quite still. Marmaduke hurried after Rosamund after mumbled 'good nights'.

Violet sighed, leaning back on the sofa and looking up at Patrick in exhaustion.

"Robert is wrapped around the foreigner's little finger, the foreigner can't even produce an heir, Rosamund is so terribly ill-behaved at social occasions and Marmaduke... Marmaduke is so awfully middle-class."

"Come now, my dear, it can't be as bad as all that."

* * *

"Cora?"

"You can come in, Robert," she called out to him, finishing rubbing her lotion onto her hands, she turned in her chair and smiled at him. Robert went over to his side of the bed and untied the cord on his dressing gown, slipping it off his shoulders and leaving it on the chair. Cora got up and did a double-take of him.

"What are you wearing?"

Robert shrugged and looked down at himself. "We're not going to bed."

"We're not?"

"No."

"You could have told me that before I got undressed."

"Where we're going you won't want to be in your dinner wear."

"Then pray, tell me - where are we going?"

Robert grinned. "For your Christmas present."

Cora groaned and slapped a hand to her forehead.

"Must we do this right now, Robert? I'm tired."

"It'll be worth it," he promised.

"Why can't we do it in the morning?"

"It won't be the same."

"Please tell me it's not bedroom activities outside of the bedroom."

Robert chuckled, "Not quite."

"Well... what am I to wear?"

"Walking clothes? I'll help you get changed."

Cora sighed, tossing up her hands in defeat as she opened up her closet and pulled out a long blue tartan skirt, white blouse, riding boots and a long-sleeved, black winter coat. Robert patiently helped where she let him and shortly she too was dressed for outdoors. Robert peeked out the window and turned to her in excitement.

"It's snowing!"

"Great..." Cora's enthusiasm wasn't much improved, considering it had snowed at Downton constantly on and off for the last three days.

"Come on!" Robert took her hand and the pair of them tiptoed down the hallway, down the stairs, into the drawing room and out through one of the doors that led onto the tea patio. Robert firmly closed the door after them and turned to her, watching the spiralling snow falling around them. Cora couldn't help feeling a quiver of thrilling anticipation despite her initial reservations for leaving the warmth of her bed, no clothes and Robert's bare skin in exchange for a cold walk in the snow. It was rather spontaneous of him - even if it was heading towards midnight and the snow was falling thicker and faster about them.

Robert pulled her into his chest, his cheeks already pink, his nose cold against hers as he dipped in to steal a kiss from her lips. He mumbled something against the warmth of her wet mouth but it was inaudible to her ears. She clung to him like the dancing snowflakes about them might be the very thing that could tear them apart. She gasped when his lips left hers, their hurried breaths visible against the cold.

"We better be quick - it's starting to come down," Robert looked up at the sky and then back at her with a boyish grin. He took a moment to look at her. In that special way he did only when they were alone, setting the familiar but all too welcoming flame in her heart burning a little bit brighter.

"Let's go!" He clung tight to her hand as they ran through the snow. Cora tried to keep up with him, seeing as she had no idea where they were headed and he did. Their tracks were quickly covered as the ever changing white world around them hide their trail from the rest of the world. After a few minutes running, a light up ahead glowed promisingly against the gloom of the winter sky. As they got closer, the shape of the stables became clearer.

"Quick," Robert panted, pulling Cora into the warm wooden shack. Robert pulled the door to behind them. He laughed breathlessly, leaning against a stall while he collected himself. Cora shook her head, grinning madly though she didn't know why. She was cold and wet and quite a way from the safety of her bedroom but she was with Robert. His chest still heaving as he crossed the distance to her, arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her up before she had chance to protest. She squealed while he spun them around. Eventually stopping, he let her down to the floor, letting their moment of intimacy ride up as he leant in to kiss her. She was marvel in his eyes. Dark curls all windswept and out of place, melting snowflakes still caught in her thick dark lashes, piercing blue eyes even more vivid against the paleness of her exposed skin and the light flush of her cheeks. Her lips vibrated with a quiet moan as his lips lingered on hers, indulging in one more of her soft kisses. He could spend forever in her kisses.

"Delightful, Lord Downton, as this trip has been I do hope that's not all we came out here for," she teased. He grinned, and let his hold on her release, walking over to a stall.

"Lady Cora Crawley, I present to you," he said most flamboyantly. "Your gift from I, your devoting husband for Christmas 1899." Robert pulled open a latch and swung open the top half of a stall. Cora stepped forward a little apprehensively, and out of the darkness of the stall a pair of deep brown eyes settled on her.

Cora couldn't contain her smile and her eyes lit up, she stepped forward, slowly extending her hand in offering. The mare nodded her head, snorting and pressing forward against the confines of the stall door, the horse blew hot air onto Cora's hand, pushing it's muzzle into her hand.

"Do you like her?"

"Yes..." Cora whispered, her hand trailing up the animal's head. "Oh, yes she's beautiful."

"I did alright, right?"

"You did splendidly, my darling," Cora smiled, turning her attention to her husband.

"I know we used to ride a lot before the girls were born... I thought perhaps getting you your own horse might encourage us to start doing it together again."

Cora nodded, an unexpected surge of raw emotion filling her up, she looked down at her feet.

"I'd like that very much..."

Robert's smile faded.

"Cora?" She looked up and he saw the tears in her eyes. "Cora, whatever is the matter?"

"Oh, Robert," she smiled, reaching out for him. "I do love you so very much," she whispered against his neck, blinking back her involuntary tears.

"And you know I will forever love you back... but what's wrong? Is it what mama said at dinner? Because you know I'll be talking to her about it-"

"It's not just that... I'm so happy, Robert. You've made me happier than I could ever hope for and while you've fulfilled every duty to me, to our family, to Downton. My one and only job... purpose, I believe I will fail you."

"Cora, you'll never be a failure to me... You have given me far more than you know. And producing an heir is not your only purpose. Regardless of what mama says, I will not let the happiness in our future be stolen by the expectancy for us to have a boy. As far as I'm concerned it's one minor detail in many."

"Darling Robert..." she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and settling her head on his chest.

"Whatever we face, we face together... Including our mothers."

Cora giggled, tilting her head upwards, eyes fluttering closed as she sought out his lips. Steadily she pulled him backwards towards a large pile of rather comfortable looking hay...

"Cora-" Robert muttered against temptation and her clear advances. Cora sat herself down and pulled him with her, her arms snaking around his neck once more as her legs fell apart for him. "Really? Here?"

"What's wrong?" She frowned up at him, sensing his doubt.

"In the hay?" Robert looked around. Cora shrugged, confusion evident on her face. "Isn't it quite possible to... pick up diseases and such?"

"Well I don't know. If you're worried ask the new village doctor about it."

"And what do I say? Hello Doctor Clarkson, I just wondered whether I may have contracted an infection whilst ravishing my wife in some hay?"

Cora giggled, lying back and shaking her head in dismay.

"Fine not in the hay," she sat up, her knees squeezing his sides. "Will against the wall do?"

"The wall!?"

"Robert," Cora looked at him quite seriously, her hands roaming through his hair as she delicately let her lips graze his cheek. "I need you."


	2. So Happy Christmas

_Happy December everybody! This chapter is personally one of my favourites. A warning for baby yuck and a strange Christmas gift.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Two: So Happy Christmas, I Love You Baby  
**_December 25th, 1899_

"Marmaduke, where is Rosamund?" Violet asked, quirking her head in that bird-like fashion that always so unnerved him.

"I'm sure she'll be along," Marmaduke murmured, Cora caught his gaze and narrowed her eyes at him. Marmaduke shrugged but his smile betrayed the innocence he feigned. Everyone was gathered in the hall to hand out presents to the servants and Rosamund hadn't been downstairs yet that morning. Robert's hands slipped around Cora's waist from behind, he rested his lips against her cheek.

"Did I say Merry Christmas to you yet?" He said in his quiet, husky voice. Cora tilted her head to look up at him.

"I think you said it pretty well this morning," she replied, resting her head against his shoulder. "Your mother is looking at us."

Robert rolled his eyes and nodded, kissing her cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Cora."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Robert."

"Sorry I'm late!" Rosamund called, hopping down the stairs in a most unusual fashion.

"Why _are_ you walking like that?" Violet asked as Rosamund moved in a most unladylike way, wincing every so often as she hobbled into the hall. Cora's eyes widened, knowing all too well what Rosamund must have been doing last night.

"I had a fall last night and hurt my leg. I'll be fine!" Rosamund waved her hands erratically, reaching out for her husband for support as she joined the group.

"Right, now everyone's present we can finish," Patrick announced.

"We can _start_, Patrick. We haven't begun yet," Violet corrected. Cora picked up the gifts and handed them to Rosamund who handed them to Violet to give to various members of staff. While the ladies went on with proceedings, Robert took up conversation with Marmaduke.

"So, how did Rosamund 'hurt her leg'?"

"She, err... fell out of bed."

"How did she manage that?"

"...She rolls around a lot in her sleep."

"Ah," Robert nodded, frowning slightly as he watched Rosamund rather stiffly bend down to pick up a dropped gift. "Funny, I'm no medical expert but I wouldn't have guessed it was a problem with her leg..."

Marmaduke choked on his whisky.

"Alright, what's going on?" Robert folded his arms, trying to achieve a no-nonsense attitude.

"Believe me, you don't want to hear from me. Ask Cora, she'll... understand," Marmaduke cringed at his own words, further confusing Robert in his ignorance of female anatomy.

Once all of the servants had received their gifts and been dismissed for their Christmas luncheon, the family moved into the library for their gift-giving. Frauline Helger delivered the children to the room, her last job for the next two weeks as Robert had granted her permission to travel to see family. Violet was not happy about this development. It would mean Cora would bring the children to tea and really, she hated to be around little people when they weren't summoned into silence.

Cora reclined on one of the sofas, Sybil sitting in her lap while trying to chew on some wrapping paper. Mary and Freddie sat on the floor and opened their gifts while Edith sat on the sofa beside her mother. While by the tree, the other adults picked at the spread luncheon and exchanged parcels.

"Mama, this is for you from Cora and I-"

"It's just from Robert, Violet. He's trying to put half the blame on me in case you don't like it," Cora called from the sofa, smiling as her mother-in-law unwrapped another book. "Oh, Sybil don't eat that!" Cora took the cushion off the little toddler and instead attempted to amuse her with nursery rhymes.

"Oh, how nice... What is it, Robert dear?"

"French poetry," he beamed. "I thought it might prove a bit different."

Violet inspected the spine and frowned. "I don't think I've heard of this author... Pierre Louÿs, Les Chansons de Bilitis."

Rosamund, who had just taken a bite out of a sandwich, started to cough, her cheeks turning red as she began to choke and howl in laughter simultaneously. Everyone stared in confusion as she continued to turn bolder shades of crimson.

"Rob... Robert!" She cackled. "You gave mama-"

"What? What did I give mama?"

Violet opened the book, squinting at the first page.

"Erotic poetry!"

Violet dropped the prose collection, it hit the floor with a hefty thud. All was quiet in exception to Rosamund's laughter and Cora singing a nursery rhyme.

"Goosey goosey gander where shall I wander, Upstairs and downstairs and in my ladies chamber There I met and old man who would not say his prayers, I took him by the left leg and through him down the..." Cora looked up, confused by the sudden silence. "Stairs. What's going on?"

"Robert gave mama-"

"Quiet Rosamund!" Violet commanded, picking up a box-shaped gift and thrusting it into Robert's hands. "From your father and I."

Robert cleared his throat, staring at the floor in humiliation. "I'm sorry mama, I thought it was..."

"That's alright, Robert. Let's say no more on the matter."

"You never were any good at French," Rosamund giggled.

"Rosamund!" Violet warned.

Robert busied himself unwrapping his parent's gift, finding a dark blue snuff box with gold edges and an intricate design on the lid.

"It's lovely, thank you mama," Robert looked up, the tinge of pink just starting to leave his cheeks. Violet nodded her acceptance. "I'll get you something else in the new year."

Robert left them to go and release the embarrassment of his mistake, taking a seat beside Edith with a heavy sigh.

"What do you have there Edith?"

"It's a dolly from granny. I wanted to call her Patricia but Mary says that's a silly name. It's not a silly name is it papa?"

"Of course not, Edith. It's a lovely name considering Mary named her first doll 'Norma.'" Robert answered, while giving his wife a quizzical look as she bounced Sybil up and down on her knees and made the most bizarre expressions.

"Well, I was only little," Mary defended herself stubbornly. "I was certainly younger than _five_."

"Were you now and how do you remember?" Robert raised an eyebrow.

"Because I do," Mary replied as though it were obvious.

"Come on, Mary. Let's go play with my new football," Freddie tugged her sleeve, getting himself up.

"Cousin Freddie, I'm a lady I don't play football."

"That's not what you said when we played cricket in the Summer."

Mary huffed, "Oh fine but I'm not being in the goal again, you kick it far too hard."

"Don't play inside, go get your coats on and play outside on the patio, there's less snow there than on the grass," Robert told them. "Edith why don't you go play with them?"

"I don't want to, papa. I'm going to play in here with Patricia."

"Suit yourself," Freddie called, racing out of the room with Mary who was already starting another argument with him as they reached the door.

"I'm going to leave you all to it now and go and rest. If you'd tell them to wake me at the gong I'd appreciate it," Rosamund informed Violet before heaving herself out of a chair and awkwardly moving off in the direction of the stairs.

"Marmaduke, I've left you and Rosamund's presents on that table to the left, yours is the square one," Cora called while hanging onto Sybil as she tried to get herself down to explore.

"Oh, thank you. I'll take Rosamund's up for her later," Marmaduke picked up his present and carefully unwrapped a wooden box. Lifting the lid, he found a set of expensive cigars. He turned to Cora with a grin. "I think I'll have to try these out. Anyone want to come?"

"I'll come," Patrick volunteered.

"Really, can't you wait until after dinner?" Violet asked, finally stooping to pick up Robert's offending present and hiding it away under the tree.

"If you knew how good these things are you wouldn't want to wait til after dinner either," Marmaduke grinned. "Robert are you coming?"

"Why not? We can crack open the rum," Robert suggested.

"Let's go in the drawing room," Patrick decided, draining his whisky and depositing the empty glass on a table. Robert kissed Edith and Sybil on their foreheads and Cora on her cheek.

"You'll be alright here with mama?" Robert whispered. Cora nodded.

"I won't be completely alone with her, I've got Edith and Sybil."

Robert gave her a comforting smile, squeezed her hand and got up to join the others one the way to the drawing room.

"They'll have finished their dinner downstairs, shall I ring for tea?" Violet asked, walking towards the bell. Cora inclined her head with a friendly smile which she didn't get returned. Violet sat herself in a seat beside a table near the tree. Cora stood up, leaving Edith to play but carrying Sybil with her.

"I'm trying to get her doze off," Cora explained. "She usually has a nap around noon."

"How long is the governess gone?"

"About a week and a half."

"My word, Robert shouldn't have let her go for that long. Really, the nerve of the woman."

Cora shrugged, "I don't mind looking after the girls every so often. My maid will help out."

"Mama," Sybil yawned, snuggling up under Cora's chin. "I don't feel good."

"You're just tired baby, try and sleep." Violet looked at her inquiringly. "Probably from eating that wrapping paper," Cora giggled, Violet didn't look convinced that it was amusing. A footman appeared at the door.

"Lady Downton and I will have tea," Violet informed him. The footman nodded and went out. "Robert tells me he bought you a horse for Christmas."

"You don't approve?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"Now, Cora there's no need to be so sharp."

"And you weren't last night?" Cora turned her head in challenge, feeling far more battle ready than the previous night.

"I am just concerned about the future of Downton," Violet answered after a slight pause.

Cora shook her head incredulously. "Well you needn't be, my family's money - if you remember, is what saved this place."

"Your fortune won't mean much if the estate doesn't stay in Crawley blood," Violet warned.

"But it will, I'm sure there's a perfectly decent Crawley heir out there somewhere."

"Well, we didn't think we'd have to go rummaging for one!"

"Well, believe me, Violet," Cora could feel her anger rising, the words forcing themselves out of her mouth before she'd even thought them up. "Having no son was not for lack of trying!"

Lady Grantham sat very still, the words of her daughter-in-law sinking in and silencing her from forming a coherent or remotely clever sentence. Cora had gone a little red herself.

"I'm sorry," Cora apologised. "I only mean to say that we have tried and though the results have not yet been yielding, I don't mean to give up just yet."

Violet nodded slowly, about to mutter peace words when a loud shriek interrupted their stunted conversation. Cora whipped her head around.

"Edith! Where's Edith?"

"Maaaammaaaaaa!"

Cora jumped out of her seat. "I'm sorry, just hold Sybil for me I won't be a moment."

"What? Where will-?"

Cora dumped Sybil in her lap and hurried out of the room. Violet raised an expectant eyebrow at the child. Sybil frowned up at her grandmother in confusion.

"Are you gammy?"

"No, Sybil I am grandmama," Violet told the three-year old sternly, unimpressed at being called 'gammy' of all things.

"Ganana," Sybil imitated.

"No, grand-ma-ma."

"Ganana, I feel a bit... funny"

"Oh, don't you dare," Violet warned, her stare boring into the doe-eyes of her youngest grandchild. "Don't you-"

* * *

"Edith what are you doing up there?"

"Mamaaaa!" Edith wailed, hugging the curtain for dear life. Cora hurried over to where Edith clung, stranded half way up the material of the big velvet curtains in the dining room.

"How on Earth did you get up there?" Cora asked, reaching up on tip toes to grab her daughter by the waist.

"Patricia wanted to... have a flying lesson.. so we did run and jump off the taaaaable," Edith sobbed, letting go of the material and allowing Cora deliver her to the safety of the floor.

"Goodness, when did you get so heavy?" Cora knelt down before her, wiping away her tears with a calming smile. "Come on, it's alright now. Let's go back in the library and maybe George will have brought up some mince pies."

Cora took Edith's hand and collected the doll off the floor and together they went back into the library. However just as Cora entered, Violet's stare rooted her to the spot.

"Don't. Say. Anything." Violet hissed through her teeth.

The edges of Cora's lips twisted upwards, she bit her lower lip in an attempt to stifle her utter glee. What divine comeuppance for the honourable Lady Grantham. For she sat, Sybil still in her lap, with sickly yellow vomit all over her face and neck. Sybil turned around with a little sick dripping down her chin.

"Ma, I been not good," Sybil burbled.

"Oh darling, have you been sick?" Cora asked like it wasn't immediatly obvious, dropping Edith's hand and going to ring the bell. She went back over to Edith and led her over to her chair and sat her up.

"You sit up like a good girl, Edith," Cora told her. "I need to take Sybil from granny."

"Eurgh, it looks like granny has snot on her face. Did she not use a hankie properly?" Edith enquired.

"No, Sybil was sick on granny. I'm sure granny knows how to use a handkerchief," Cora told her, carefully extracting Sybil off Violet's lap and wiping her daughter's face with a napkin. "Shall I send your maid up?" Cora asked, unable to look Violet in the eye as she got up and rigidly walked towards the door.

"That might be wise."

* * *

Later that afternoon after Sybil had been cleaned up, Cora stood in the nursery singing her off to sleep. In the darkness of the room, Cora watched her youngest begin to doze and eventually begin to snore.

"She looks so peaceful," a voice behind Cora made her jump. Robert put his arms around her slender frame, tucking his body close behind hers.

"You gave me a fright," she whispered. "If you knew how long it took to get her to sleep you wouldn't have tried that... Where are the others?"

"Mary, Freddie and Edith are playing Freddie's new board game. Rosamund is still in bed. Marmaduke is trying decipher that book I got for mama. Mama has been in her room since luncheon and papa is in his study."

"So what was it you bought her?" Cora asked quietly, turning around in Robert's arms.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what was wrong with Rosamund this morning."

"I can go one better that that, I can tell you that _and_ why your mother has been in her bedroom since we sat down for tea."

Robert raised his eyebrows, looking thoughtful. "I think that's a good deal. Let's go into your room."

The couple quietly left Sybil to her dreams and made it down the hall to Cora's bedroom. Cora sat down on her lounger while Robert took the chair opposite.

"Rosamund was walking funny because... well, do you remember on our honeymoon we... tried that thing?"

"What thing?"

"You know... _that thing_."

"Oh... Eurgh," Robert cringed, applying the thought to his sister's bedroom life.

"And mama has been in her room since tea this afternoon because I left Sybil with her to go and rescue Edith and when I returned, Sybil had been sick all over her." Robert shook his head and smiled, he knew Cora would have gotten a kick out of that sight. "So what was the book?"

"Don't laugh... Have you ever heard of erotic prose?"

* * *

_Robert's gift to Violet, the French book of erotic prose is a genuine book published in Paris, 1894, consisting of 143 poems supposedly tending towards lesbian themes. I don't know why but the notion of Robert unknowingly gifting such a book to Violet appealed to my sense of humor. Let me know what you thought, T x_


	3. I've Built My Dreams Around You

_I have to give you a little warning for this chapter, the mood is swinging low. There's a bit of bad news coming up. And also I have had a few queries about who Cousin Freddie belongs to - in the fic he is Rosamund and Marmaduke's son, he's hanging around to annoy Mary in future. :)  
_

* * *

**Chapter Three: Can't Make It Out Alone, I've Built my Dreams Around You  
**_December 26th, 1899_

It was only three hours into Boxing Day, three hours since Christmas Day had gone to rest for another year. And after most of the day having constant snowfall, the night air was finally still. Another fresh world of white-ness had set outside, shrouding Downton estate in glistening white pallor. The stars shone brightly around a full moon, illuminating the proud stone walls of the abbey. The trees, all clad in wintry weather stood still to attention. Outside, the world was so very still. Inside Downton Abbey, Cora's night was about to get hellishly worse. And particularly so in contrast to the happiness of the previous day.

Cora gasped, curling up into herself just a little bit tighter. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed for sleep to come and claim her but she knew it wouldn't. Relenting, Cora released her foetal position and sat herself up. Her bed felt very hot, sweat had begun to gather at the edges of her hair and her heart was hammering loud in her chest. The cramps starting in her stomach hadn't long since begun but they had been painful enough to rouse her from her dreams. Cora looked over at Robert, he was still fast asleep. She reached across and turned on the oil lamp, sitting herself up properly but wincing against another shooting pain across her abdomen. Cora pulled back the several blankets and sheets, aching for some cold air against her skin but instead finding something quite opposite to the relief she had expected. As she pulled back the covers, she watched as her nightdress bloomed with bold crimson colour.

Cora sighed, she'd been expecting mother nature to visit. She turned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and readied herself to get up but instead a sharp jab in the pit of her stomach kept her in place. Trying to contain a gasp, Cora bit her lip and winced. One hand gripped her stomach as she took steady breaths and waited out the pain. Cora opened her eyes again and found more blood covering her nightdress, more and more of it had been leaving her and absorbing in her night clothes and the bed sheets. Having not experienced anything quite like it, shock froze her in place. Until she felt something else unusual happening.

"Robert," Cora shook her husband's shoulder, verging on tears as she tried to rouse him. "Robert, wake up."

"Mm, what?" Robert yawned, rubbing his eyes and shifting slightly.

"Robert, get up," Cora whispered urgently, shaking his arm a bit harder.

"What's wrong?" Robert blinked a few times, struggling to sit up. As his eyes focussed, he fully awoke upon seeing so much red. "What happened? Are you alright?" He pushed back the sheets and knelt beside her, taking hold of her shaking hands.

"I tried so badly just to... There was so much, I couldn't do anything, it just happened..."

"Shh, it's alright. I'm here, alright? What's happened?"

"I think I lost a baby," she whispered, her hand covering her mouth as she shook her head, tears falling from her eyes. Robert sat still, swallowing the lump in his throat as he struggled to get his thoughts straight. But before he could make any decisions, Cora gripped his pyjama shirt.

"No, what's happening? Cora?" Robert panicked. Cora's sobs racked her body.

"Something... I can feel..."

After a few moments Cora's alarm faded and she collapsed into Robert's arms, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What has just happened?"

"Robert, I need you to... go get some help... Go and wake Rosamund. I need you to ask her to go upstairs and wake Penny." Cora weakly tried to make herself sit up, leaning back against the pillows and trying to get her breathing back under control.

"Alright, I can do that. You'll be alright for a moment?"

Cora nodded. "And Robert?"

"Cora?" Robert turned on his way towards the door.

"I'm sorry," she told him in a small voice.

"Cora... Don't apologise. We'll talk in a minute, I'll be right back."

Robert paused a moment by the door before he left the room, then hurrying as quickly and quietly as possible down the hall and around the corner to Rosamund's room. A dim light shone from beneath the door. He knocked twice and waited.

"Rosamund?" He whispered, quietly turning the handle on the door, and poking his head around it. "Good Lord, what are you doing at this time in the morning?"

"Robert! You could have knocked!" Rosamund half-shouted. Under the sheets a figure slowly moved away from Rosamund's concealed body and lay quite still beside her, still hiding underneath the bed linen. Robert moved into the room, and closed the door behind him. He frowned.

"Are you smoking a pipe?"

"Don't tell mama. She'll tell me it's 'terribly middle-class.'" Rosamund grinned, taking a puff and pulling the sheet up around her chest a bit higher, her mad red ringlets all about her head in a mess.

"I need you to help me - and be really quick because Cora's waiting. I need you to go and wake Cora's maid, Penny - her name will be on one of the doors up there. Be really quiet and bring her to Cora's bedroom."

"Why can't Cora do it?" Rosamund protested, folding her arms.

"Please Rosamund. I'll explain everything if you just hurry. I'll be in Cora's room. Please just be quick."

"Oh alright," Rosamund rolled her eyes. "Sod off while I dress."

"Thank you... And try not to wake anyone else," Robert said on his way out the door. He raced down the hall and back into the bedroom. Cora sat where he had left her, her legs were parted and she stared at the bloodied sheet that covered what she didn't dare look at.

"Rosamund will be here soon with Penny," Robert went around to Cora's side. "I'll start the bath and we'll get you cleaned up," he kissed her cheek and took two steps backwards. Her eyes stayed focussed on the sheet. "What is it?"

"You don't want to look at it. It's awful. You don't want to look at it," Cora put a hand over her face and lay back on the pillows.

"What's under...? Look, we'll let Penny come and help alright? I'm going to run the bath and I'll be right back to look after you," Robert jogged into the bathroom and tried turning both nobs on the bathtub, experimenting until he got the right temperature. He left the water to run and returned to Cora.

"Alright, the water's running," Robert looked at her helplessly, struggling to decide what to do until the women arrived. "Shall I help you get in the bath?"

Cora nodded, the tears were still wet on her cheeks, seeing her so fragile and upset broke Robert's heart but right then he needed to control himself. She needed him.

"Alright, I'll try not to lift the sheet," he told her, trying to keep her calm. Gently he moved her legs from the bed first and supported her back with his other arm. Once he had her in a good position, he scooped her legs up and readied his hold around her, lifting her from the bed and into his arms. Half way to the bathroom, Rosamund and Penny burst in.

Rosamund's mouth dropped, her eyes registering shock at the sight of the bed and Cora in Robert's arms.

"Oh Cora," Rosamund whispered, she clutched Penny's shoulder. The short middle-aged maid, swallowed audibly. Having worked most her life in service as a lady's maid, she'd only ever experienced one miscarriage before and the sight of another truly saddended her.

"Can you clean up here please, Penny?" Robert asked. Cora slid her arms up around his neck, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

"Yes, my lord, of course."

"Rosamund, you don't have to stay-"

"I'll help Penny," she said firmly, already rolling up the sleeves of her nightgown. Leaving Rosamund and the maid to clear up, Robert took Cora into the bathroom and closed the door after them. He gently let Cora down to the floor, supporting her with one arm while he pulled her nightdress over her head. He tried the water again for temperature and turned off the cold tap. While letting it run a bit warmer, he tried to unbutton his pyjama shirt one-handed, not wanting to get it wet. Cora stilled his movements and took care of the buttons for him. Robert slipped off the shirt and let it fall to the floor.

Her bare skin was hot and sticky with sweat against his own. He rubbed her back gently, watching the bathtub fill. How unbelievably happy they'd been only the day before.

"Bath's ready," he told her, reaching across to turn off the tap. Cora clung to him tighter. "Let's take it slow, alright?" He whispered into her hair, kissing her cheek as he prepared himself to lift her again. Robert carefully and slowly lowered her into the water, his eyes beginning to tear up when she winced against it. He knelt down beside the bathtub and offered a sad smile.

"Did you know?" He asked.

"No, I didn't... Things hadn't been the same since Mary so I didn't think much of it when the signs showed."

"Alright..."

"Robert?"

"Yes?"

"There's no need for anyone to know... I mean, I... don't want anyone else to know. Not for a while yet."

"We can talk about that when you feel better," he nodded, getting up to locate some soap, when he returned to her side, he cleaned her body dearingly and without chore. Cora watched him work, the shock wearing off and replacing with guilt and sadness.

"You're holding it back, aren't you?"

"Holding what back?" He asked, standing up to go and put the soap back on the shelf and retrieve a towel.

"You're being brave for me, darling," Cora told him, reaching her arms out for him as he bent to help her out of the murky bath water. Cora stepped out of the tub and stood still while he rubbed her with the towel.

"I'll go fetch another nightdress for you," he said, squeezing his arms around her then letting go. When Robert went back into the bedroom he found Rosamund and Penny putting on fresh sheets.

"Robert, I didn't look but Penny has put... from the miscarriage into a shoe box."

"Some mothers like to bury them, you see my lord," Penny explained. "Sense of finality, type of thing."

"What are we talking about?" Robert looked between them confused. Rosamund nodded at Penny to continue.

"If you'll pardon me, my lord. You see... it's not only blood that's the by-product of a miscarriage," Robert cringed. "The baby's only very, very small at that stage but Lady Downton did pass it."

Robert had to turn away from them to collect himself.

"I... Came in here to get Cora a nightdress. Can you get one please?" He asked, wiping his tears with the back of his hand before facing them again.

"Of course," Penny hurried over to the wardrobe and took out a fresh one, handing it over to Robert.

"Rosamund, Cora's not ready to tell anyone about what's happened. If you'd just tell Marmaduke she was ill and needed Penny to come help, I'd appreciate that."

"If that's what you want, of course."

"Thank you... both of you," Robert related his thanks and went back into the bathroom.

* * *

Neither Cora nor Robert slept at all in the remaining hours of that night. Robert held her until the early hours and while it was still dark, he left the bedroom and went into his dressing room to ring for his valet. Cora watched the sun rise through a crack in the curtains on a dreary and grey day.

Downstairs at breakfast a most subdued feeling had set on those around the table. Cora wasn't present, Robert had gone off on a walk with no breakfast, carrying an ominous package. Rosamund and Marmaduke sleepily poked at their food and Violet was looking troubled as she watched Patrick frowning at his food as though confused about why it was there.

"Where did Robert go this morning?" Violet asked the table, trying to fill the silence that had fallen on the room.

"For a walk," Rosamund mumbled, stifling a yawn.

"Without having breakfast?" Violet half-heartedly pushed the matter, while watching Patrick wince as he rolled his shoulders.

"I think he's feeling the low after the Christmas cheer," Rosamund said, slumping down in her seat and resting her chin on her hand while staring at her porridge in exhaustion.

"I daresay we all are," Marmaduke added. "I am sorry, do you think you might excuse me, I'm not at all hungry."

"Neither me," Rosamund got up with him and the couple left the room together. A footman cleared away their dishes and for a moment, Violet and Patrick were alone.

"Now we're alone, you might tell me what has got into you lately," Violet addressed her husband.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I've just been nostalgic having the family together."

"When I look at you, you don't exactly seem to be reminiscing."

"Violet, I'm fine."

"That is precisely what women say when trying to hide the opposite. Are you being a woman on me, Patrick?"

Lord Grantham released a heavy sigh and sat back in his chair, scratching his chin and considering something way off in the corners of his mind.

"Patrick?" Violet tried to pull him back.

"Well alright but you're not to tell the children."

"Fine," she put down her cutlery and sat back in her chair.

"I have to go into town now but we'll talk this evening after dinner. When Robert and... Rosamund's fellow go through, I'll be in my study. Meet me there and we'll talk."

* * *

Some time after afternoon tea, Robert had come back without the parcel, having missed luncheon and not told anyone where he'd gone it roused a feeling of uneasiness in the house. The children played under Penny's supervision the whole day and Cora hadn't made an appearance. Rosamund had gone up to check on her and spent at least an hour up there in her room. Dinner was much quieter than usual. Violet was deep in thought over what her husband might reveal to her, Patrick was working out how he'd talk to her, Marmaduke was practically dozing in his gravy, Robert grieved silently and Rosamund was tired and disturbed from the events of the evening before. When dinner had been picked at for half an hour, Mary and Freddie said goodnight to Rosamund and went upstairs to dress for bed.

After Penny had said goodnight and just as Mary had put her head down on her pillow, she heard the door creak. Immediately sitting bolt up-right, a flickering oil lamp illuminated Edith's ghostly white face in the gloom of the bedroom.

"Edith? What are you doing in here?" Mary demanded, throwing back her covers and preparing to haul her little sister out of her room.

"Mary, it was horrid! I had a terrible nightmare and I can't go back to sleep now," Edith struggled not to cry. "Me and Patricia were flying over some hills and then suddenly-" Edith hurried over to Mary's bedside, putting down the lamp. "We both fell into this big pit of darkness and at the bottom there were a hundred spiders."

"Don't be ridiculous, Edith. Go back to bed."

"Can't I... can't I stay in here with you?"

"Absolutely not! Ladies do not share their beds."

"Mama shares with papa."

"That's because they're married and they pretend to sleep apart so it's practically the same thing."

"Oh please Mary, I don't want to walk down to my room by myself."

"Then you shouldn't have walked here. You are not sleeping in my bed."

"Can we go see mama then? Maybe she'll read a bedtime story?"

"Mama is ill."

"Then I could read her a bedtime story."

"Please, you can barely read yet yourself."

"Then you can read to her. Come on Mary, I want to go see mama."

"Fine," Mary huffed, folding her arms and tilting her head like her grandmama to try and look like the grown up in the situation. "But you're not choosing the story."

"Aaaaw that's not fair!"

"Yes it is fair, Edith. Now come on."

* * *

"I've been to see the doctor recently. The new chap down in the hospital," Patrick began, turning away from the window and flicking some ash off his cigar. "It rather seems I have a disease."

"Well what... what does that mean?" Violet frowned, sitting on the other side of his desk and watching him pace between the two windows.

"The doctor is pretty certain it's something to do with my lungs though it seems he's unsure of what caused it. Pulmonary emphy-something. It's non-infectious."

"But what does it mean, Patrick?"

"It's irreversible..."

"So...?"

"...I don't know how long I have left in your delightful presence, my love," Patrick shrugged on his attempt to keep the blow light, clearing his throat and trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Why on Earth didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to ruin your Christmas... and I suppose I didn't want to be weak in your eyes," he admitted.

"Patrick," Violet sighed, standing up and walking over to where he stood, gazing out of the window. "You will never be weak to me," she spoke with such determination he felt a fool for keeping quiet. "I don't know how you hold together sometimes."

"Well, I..." Patrick lost his words, he looked ahead then turned to Violet. "I don't... I don't when you're not around... " He turned back to the window.

Violet opened her mouth to say something but found she couldn't. A solitary tear had brimmed at the corner of her eye and slipped down her cheek.

"The doctor estimates maybe a few months. The symptoms will get worse," he said matter-of-factly, exhaling another breath of smoke and turning to flick more ash into the tray on his desk and finding his wife wearing an expression he'd not seen in years. He put the cigar down and offered her his hands.

"My dear Violet," he said quietly. "We weren't together for love but did I deliver you what you wanted? Did I make you at all happy?" His deep blue eyes bored into hers with a friendship she knew nowhere else.

"You have," she answered. "But might I ask the same question?"

"Of course you have," he smiled.

"You're very brave about the situation."

"I have tried to be. But if I'm to be honest with you..." He looked down at their hands and swallowed. "Violet, I'm more scared than I've ever been in my life."

"Patrick..." Violet released one of his hands and smoothed back his hair. "Do you accept it? Are you on good terms with God?"

"Well that's the thing. I thought I was..."

* * *

"Hello you two."

"Hello mama, are you feeling alright now?" Edith went over to the bed side while Mary lingered near the door.

"A little bit. Did you both have a good day?"

"Well it was more fun with Penny than Devil Helger," Mary answered, wandering a little further into the room.

"I had a bad dream," Edith informed Cora.

"You did? Do you want to climb in with me?" Cora sat herself up and patted Robert's side of the bed.

"Alright," Edith chirped, clutching the bed covers and hauling herself up. Mary rolled her eyes. Cora tucked Edith in beside her.

"Mary you can stay too if you want."

"No thank you, mama."

"Cora?" Robert knocked lightly on the door and poked his head into the room, squinting into the dark. "Mary what are you doing in here?"

"Edith had a bad dream," she gestured to the bed.

"Ah," Robert nodded, walking into the room and closing the door behind him. "Dinner was a rather glum affair. The festive cheer has worn off the others pretty quickly... I can sleep in my dressing room tonight if you'd prefer?"

"That's alright. Though I think we might have an over-stayer."

Robert smiled, "I'll ring for Peters and be back shortly."

"Alright," Cora watched him leave, stroking Edith's blonde curls as she curled up beside her and began to snooze.

"Well then, I'll see you tomorrow mama," Mary said, turning for the door.

"You're not going to come give me a kiss, Mary?" Cora pretended to be disappointed, smiling as Mary turned around, doing another eye-roll and wandering over to Cora's side. Mary reached her arms around Cora's neck, accepting a kiss on her cheek and letting go. She made it half-way towards the door before she turned back.

"Mama, you don't suppose that it's... very unladylike if I did sleep in here, is it?"

"Not at all, darling. Not if we don't make a habit of it... Come on, I'll shift Edith up and you can sleep on my other side."

"Oh, alright then."

When Robert had been dressed for bed he found not one, not two, but three ladies in his bed that night. Chuckling to himself, he managed to budge Edith up without waking her and tuck himself in. Lying back on the pillows he looked across at Cora, an arm around each daughter and her chest slowly rising and falling. Finding some blessed deserved peace with sleep.

* * *

_It's going to get happier again, I promise! Anyone remember who's gonna pop up next chapter? A note on Patrick's illness aswell: pulmonary emphysema is a genuine disease now known to be caused by smoking but they didn't know that then (anyone catch the ironic moment?).__ On that jolly note, ta ta for now! T x  
_


	4. Queen Of New York City

_The arrival of the much-loved Mrs L as promised shall sprinkle some sunshine soon. In the meantime, some Cobert loveliness for you all and some period swear words.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Four: You Were Handsome You Were Pretty, Queen Of New York City**_**  
**__December 27th, 1899_

"Really, who arrives at midday?"

"Clearly Martha does," Patrick answered, walking from the house to stand beside his wife. As usual Violet was already voicing her distaste before Martha had even arrived at Downton. All the staff had assembled in their coats and winter gear, lining up in the snow to welcome Mrs Levinson. Marmaduke and Rosamund, with Cora and Robert stood off to the side, anticipating the hum of the motor at the end of the drive.

"You're sure you're alright?" Robert asked again.

"I'm fine. Anyway I have to be up to welcome mother."

"I'm sure she would understand-"

"It will do me good to be up and about. Stop worrying about me."

The motor appeared out of the trees, crunching the snow and gravel under its tyres and chugging away as it rolled up to the front door. George, the first footman hurried up to the car door and held it open, offering his hand as Martha appeared out of the car.

"Ah, my dear Crawleys!"

Violet's smile turned to a grimace. Martha hopped down from the cab, offering both white-gloved hands to Violet.

"Lady Grantham," Martha cooed.

"Mrs Levinson," Violet said through her joyful facade.

"Mwah," Martha took the other mother's hesitant hands and enthusiastically squished her lips to Violet's cheek.

"Oh, how none of you have changed," Martha's eyes widened as she scanned the whole crew of them. "You know, anyone would guess Father Christmas snuffed it on his way down your chimney, you all look so..."

"Reserved?" Patrick offered.

"Glum," Martha decided. "My darling Cora," Martha shuffled through the snow, flinging her fox fur scarf back up on her shoulder.

"Mother," Cora smiled, taking Martha's outstretched hands and kissing her cheek.

"My this weather hasn't done anything for your complexion, you look very peaky dear," Martha's concern lasted about three seconds. "Robert, how nice to see you."

"Likewise certainly," Robert smiled charmingly, giving her the customary greeting.

"Rosamund, this must be the beau I didn't get to meet last time," Martha's eyes gleamed with interest. Marmaduke had watched her whirlwind around them all in slight confusion at her indifference to their obvious dislike for her comments and American panache.

"Pleasure to meet you Mrs Levinson," he managed to get out, a lop-sided, amused grin appearing as she yanked him in for kisses. After Rosamund, Patrick and the children too had been blessed with Martha's bestowing smooch, the family moved indoors for luncheon. For the whole meal, Violet wearily watched Patrick constantly fidget with his clothes. Cora listened dutifully to Martha's gossip, Robert tried to keep asking questions, feeding his mother-in-law's endless ramblings as someone had to fill the quiet. Marmaduke and Rosamund had slept well the night before and resumed their flirting and pinching where eyes could not see.

"So, anyone gonna tell me what's got you all so sour-faced?"

"Ha ha," for once during the lunch Violet's attention was in the room. "We, sour-faced," she mused.

"Why's that so funny?" Martha quirked an eyebrow.

"The English aren't sour-faced, of course we all know Americans can be of that way in nature. No, the English are morose but not dispirited. We haven't enough grapes to be sour."

"And I suppose Americans do have enough grapes?"

"Well certainly, clearly you demonstrate your climate is perfect for growing grapes."

"Mm and what does your climate grow? Morose cabbages?"

Violet pursed her lips. The two matriarchs battled it out in silent stares a moment longer before Cora decided luncheon was quite finished.

"Well if everyone's done shall we let them clear up?" Unanimous nodding gave reply. "Robert, might I have a moment with you?"

Everyone dispersed from the dining room, Cora went into the hallway and Robert tailed after. She pulled him in close to the wall.

"Are you busy this afternoon?"

"No, I wasn't planning on doing anything," he smoothed down his clothes, a little ruffled after being dragged into a corner.

"Will you take me out?"

"Yes," he answered immediately, a grin breaking out on his face. "Where?"

"Take me riding like you said we would. Like we used to," she fingered the lapels of his jacket delicately, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"Alright. If you're sure you're feeling up to that, I'd be delighted to."

"I'll go ring for Penny to change and meet you down here in a few minutes," she told him a little shyly.

"Alright," he smiled, watching her hurry off upstairs and then following shortly to go dress appropriately himself.

* * *

"Mr Carson are you very busy?" Mary had wandered downstairs to Carson's room, looking somewhat miffed.

"Not terribly, my lady. How can I be of help?"

"Well you see, I have a pre... a predick-ment," Carson smiled and gestured for her to sit. Seating herself opposite his desk she continued her story. "Cousin Freddie and I were playing football and I had had enough and wanted to play with my dolls because we always play what he wants to play. Cousin Freddie said dolls were stupid and I said no they weren't. He said yes they were and I said no they're not, football is more stupid. So he said that he'd just get Edith to play football with him. Which is completely unfair, Mr Carson because he should play what I want to play since I _always_ play football with him."

"I see and that is your predicament, Lady Mary?"

"Not completely... Promise you won't tell papa, Mr Carson, he'll get annoyed," Mary added a sigh that sounded much like she was trying to imitate her grandmother.

"Well as long as it's nothing too bad..." Carson considered, reclining in his chair and observing the little lady opposite him.

"Well we had a bit of a fight while Uncle Marmaduke went to get his whisky. He pulled my hair so I punched him. I know it was not a very lady-like thing to do but he really is so irritating at times. Anyway, now he's got Edith to plot against me with. So I decided I should come and plot with you."

"Ah, I see. And what did you have in mind?" Carson raised a bushy brow.

"Well Freddie made Edith put pine needles from the Christmas tree in my dollshouse. So I thought about putting something not nice in his bed but I can't think what."

"Well, you know a real lady rises above pranks and that sort of thing."

"Oh..." Mary sighed in disappointment.

"But that's not always the most fun option," Carson smiled as Mary looked up at him renewed excitement. "Now, if you're to pull a prank back on Master Painswick it mustn't trace back to you..."

* * *

"Cora, are you sure you're ready to ride?"

Robert watched as she prepared for the groom to help her up.

"I'm fine, Robert," Cora called, grabbing hold of the saddle as the groom hoisted her up, she twisted to sit properly.

"Alright, milady?" The groom asked, handing her the reigns.

"Perfectly, thank you Daniel."

The groom nodded and wandered back into the stables. Robert brought his horse up beside Cora's.

"Where shall we go?"

"Where did you choose for the grave?" She answered with another question. Robert's face fell a little.

"You're sure you're ready? It's only been a day since."

"I'm ready."

"Well, if you're sure... It's this way," Robert steered around his boisterous young stallion and set off at a steady trot towards a track into the woods. On the way there, Cora kept beside Robert until the track became too thin for them both and she fell behind him. Her mind wandered miles from where she was, travelling away from the dense snowy trees with her husband just ahead of her. So lost in her own thoughts, Cora completely missed what Robert said when he called out to her.

"Watch out for these tree roots, half of them are covered with snow."

Right on cue, her horse misplaced a step and lost footing. Cora lost her reigns, having not really had control of them in the first place and almost slipped backwards off her saddle, she grabbed hold of her mare's neck, her legs still over the other side of the horse.

"Robert?" She shouted, hanging from her horse most ungraciously as she squinted around for him.

"Cora, what are you doing!?" Robert jumped off his horse and began to run back. Cora's horse stood still and calmly turned her head and shoved Cora's back with her muzzle to try to replace her rider back in the saddle. Robert hurried to help.

"What happened?"

"Think the horse slipped," she replied, getting properly re-seated and warily rubbing her eyes.

"Are you tired? We can tie up the horses here it isn't much further."

"I think that'd be a good idea."

Robert moved around to her other side and gripped her waist, carefully helping her down.

"I'll just go grab Silas, I won't be a moment," he hurried off to control his bay thoroughbred while Cora sighed, running her hand over her mare's shoulder and down her flank.

"Thank you," she whispered. Her horse snorted. "Robert, I want to call her Stella," Cora shouted.

"What?" Robert yelled back, trying to grab the reigns off his stubborn stallion but the beast was in the mood to play with him and wouldn't let up.

"I'm calling the horse, Stella."

* * *

Mary scouted up and down the corridor before she very quietly turned the doorknob. She creeped into the room and replaced the door after herself. Hurrying over to the wardrobe, she pulled back one of the doors and peered inside. Putting it back as it was, she went over to the chest of drawers and pulled back the top one. Bingo. She'd hit her target.

Meanwhile in the living room, Freddie and Edith had a gang meeting. Marmaduke had been supposed to over-see them for an hour while Cora and Robert were out and the maid saw to Sybil but he'd drunken himself into stupor and sat, empty glass in hand and snoring in an armchair. Freddie and Edith sat on the floor a few feet from him.

"Now Edith, no doubt Mary will be planning an attack so we have to figure out a new plan on how to get back at her."

"You want me to get more pine needles off the tree? They made my hands itch..."

"No, Edith. We need something new... Maybe we could pull the heads off her dolls?"

"That's mean. If you do that I won't play anymore I'd hate it if you hurt Patricia."

"Fine," Freddie rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around his knees, deep in thought.

Upstairs in Freddie's room, Mary was putting her counter-attack into action. Though she had recruited Carson, his alliance hadn't done much for her plan of attack. Being that he was still a butler, he couldn't actually help to set up her idea, though he had influenced her line of thinking.

She pulled back Freddie's bed sheets and deposited her gift with a smirk.

"Enjoy that, Freddie."

* * *

"Is it looking familiar yet?"

"Not quite... Everything looks so different in the snow."

Robert squeezed her hand and stopped walking. The trees gave way to a small clearing. Cora looked around and gasped.

"This is where we..."

"Yes, somehow I thought it appropriate."

"Oddly so."

Robert released her hand and trudged over to a tree, he knelt down, squatting on his haunches as he brushed away the thin coat of snow that had fallen across a freshly dug square of earth.

"Why that tree?" Cora asked, walking up behind him.

"Thought it might be a bit inappropriate to have a grave under ours considering what we did there..." He couldn't help but smile at the memory, seeing the old oak tree some paces from where he now knelt brought on a strong sense of sentimentality. Cora smiled wistfully, reaching out to touch his shoulder as she recognised old etchings in the wood of the tree. Just over a decade ago, they had both stood there, ten years younger and newly wedded and Cora had absolutely insisted it was romantic to carve their names in the wood together. Robert had slaved away with his pocket knife to make sure the cuts were deep enough to last. And they had lasted. What followed had, at the time, been Robert's duty and Cora's longing. Of course back then Robert hadn't had quite the influx of knowledge on germs and he had been a lot less hesitant towards outdoor escapades.

"Robert, you know that I-" Cora began but couldn't finish, a sharp jab of pain in her stomach made her double over, she gripped Robert's shoulder tighter.

"God Cora, I knew you weren't ready to be out," Robert told her, getting up and holding her while the pain passed. His eyes full of concern as she regained her breathing and slowly straightened up. She loosened her grip on him and her hand dropped from her stomach.

"It's normal. They've just been a bit worse, that's all. I'm fine."

"Well, I disagree."

"What do you know about lady problems?" Cora smiled, she smoothed his hair and settled her hands at his biceps.

"I know you're not fine."

"I'm as fine as can be expected after that night..." Cora trailed off, breaking away from his gaze. "As long as we're alright," she said with quivering determiantion, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she looked up at him.

"You and me?" Robert asked, a little surprised.

"What happened was an awful shock, Robert," Cora lifted her hand to his cheek, her gloved fingers brushing his skin. "You handled it so perfectly while I fell apart," she whispered.

"I hardly feel that way. But I have to be able to look after you sometimes... Afterall, it's what it's about, isn't it? Being married?"

"Well, I..."

"I take my duties to you seriously, Cora. You come above this estate always, at the end of it all it doesn't compete with your love."

Cora's worry dissolved from her features and she shook her head, smiling.

"Darling, I do love it when you forget you're English."

Robert grinned, lifting his hands from her waist, he tilted back her touring hat. Cora eyed him, raising a hand to her head to remove the pin that kept it in place. No sooner had Robert removed the dark green feather-laden hat, had he assaulted her lips with sensuous fervor that startled Cora with the intensity of it.

"Mm, Robert," she moaned against his kiss. Her heart rate rocketing as his hands roamed her waist and lower. Feeling a surge of confidence as her reaction spurred him on, he reeled her in tightly to his body. She gasped and Robert instantly went a bright shade of fuscia as he realised his mistake in having had her feel quite so much of him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment. "It's too soon."

* * *

"Good Lord, Freddie! More tree needles?" Mary shouted, storming into the living room to pelt her older cousin with verbal abuse.

"Well consider that a warning."

"A warning for what? I haven't done anything back to you yet!"

"But you will!"

"But I haven't yet!" She howled in defiance.

"You will though, I can tell!"

"You are such a... you're such a snotty boy!"

"Hey!"

When Rosamund wandered into the living room to relieve her dear husband of minding the children, she didn't quite find what she'd expected. Edith was hiding out behind a sofa, clinging to her dolly for dear life as she watched a wrestling match ensuing before her.

"Will you both stop at once," Rosamund barked, anger obvious in her eyes as she stared incredulously at Marmaduke as he continued to snore. Mary and Freddie stood to attention, each flushed and panting. Mary tried to discreetly unhitch her skirts.

"What do you think you're both doing?" Rosamund demanded.

Freddie swallowed. "She called me a snot-"

"I don't care what she called you, Frederick. You both know better than such behaviour. Edith, stand with your sister and cousin." Edith came out from hiding and did as she was told. "All of you turn around and face the fireplace."

The children looked at her in confusion but did as she said. The next thing they heard was an all mighty smack and Marmaduke yelping in protest as he came to from his alchol-induced doze.

"Ah, hello my love," he slurred. "I'm not much into physical... pain but if that's what you want..." He began unzipping his trousers.

"Marmaduke, you-" Rosamund held her tongue and turned around. "Children put your hands over your ears," she instructed. Mary, Edith and Freddie hesitantly obeyed.

"Rosamund, you look so nice..."

"You cussed prick, you had one simple, tiny job today! And look at you, you've wound up a horny, piss-proud drunk."

"Roz dear, let's go upstairs and I'll make you feel better."

Marmaduke achieved another smack for that suggestion.

"Now you take me for a strumpet," her tone was dangerously low. "Get your boat-licking face out of my sight."

Marmaduke in his hazy, hurt confusion, pushed himself out of his chair and staggered out of the room.

* * *

"Cor-agh!"

Cora giggled, running off into the trees while Robert wriggled around in clothes trying to get the snow out through the bottom of his shirt. Well, it had been one way to distract him from his earlier uncalled for shame.

"Robert!" She called as she hurried through the trees. "Would you like to walk? Do I need to ride both horses back?"

"I'm coming to get you as soon as I get rid of this ice," he warned, finally releasing the last of the snow from his shirt and racing off in her direction.  
He squinted through the trees, seeing her hurrying along just up ahead. Robert pressed on, easily catching up to her and hauling her off her feet when he caught her.

"Now you're going to pay, you minx."

"Oh no! No, no, no - don't stick snow down my clothes," she fidgeted in his arms, laughing and struggling.

"You're having snow if I had to have snow. And you'll get it down your front aswell."

"No, Robert!" Cora pleaded, still laughing and half out of breath. "Please don't!"

"Well maybe I'd be more forgiving if you-Woah!" Robert stumbled, falling backwards with Cora still writhing in his arms. They both hit the snowy forest floor, Cora rolled over and looked at him.

"Robert, are you alright?"

"Fine," he chuckled, lifting his head up to look at her. Her hair had become a bit lop-sided and a few curly strands hung loose. Her green riding habit was muddied and damp from the snow. Robert propped himself up on his elbows, trying to close some distance between them. Cora's chest heaved as she regained her breath, sitting herself up and looking around them to try and decide where they were. As she turned back to Robert, he tackled her by her waist, rolling them over and pinning his body over hers.

"If you put snow down my clothes, Robert Crawley, I swear I'll- Mm!" For the second time in the space of a few minutes Robert had given way to a spontaneous surge of want for her lips. Cora wasn't exactly going to deny him that, afterall. The option was snow down her corset or a wet one from him. Robert liked to think the second option was by far the more preferable.


	5. Sinatra Was Swinging

_Thank you all for your delightful reviews and for taking the time to read. It's been a lovely experience in the Downton Universe but sadly I must say we are almost at chapter 6 which will signal the end to this story. In the meantime, I do hope you enjoy chapter 5 - personally, it's my favourite.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Five: Sinatra Was Swinging, All The Drunks They Were Singing**_**  
**__December 31st, 1899_

"Alright, I've been here over half a week now and the sugar glum fairies are no longer welcome. Let's have some fun!" Martha exclaimed. The other female family members looked at her skeptically.

"What do you propose we do?" Cora looked up at her mother tiredly. She hadn't been sleeping at all well the past week.

Martha shrugged, "let's have a go on the piano!"

"Well if anything that _will_ make your fairies run and hide," Violet remarked, exasperated by the very notion.

The ladies sat in the drawing room after dinner that evening, awaiting the arrival of the men. Throughout dinner, Rosamund had constantly been shooting the evils at Marmaduke, having failed yet to forgive him his sins a few days previous. Violet had been uncharacteristically quiet all week - unless Martha voiced a stupid idea. Patrick continued to suffer with the side effects of his pulmonary emphysema in silence, much unnoticed by his children who were a bit too caught up in their own troubles. Robert's attention only existed for Cora that week. She'd been sleeping irregularly and often he had to poke her at luncheon and dinner to stop her from falling into a dose on her dinner plate.

Martha was getting more and more fidgety at everyone's lack of excitement. It was still christmas time afterall, even if the day had passed! She observed the other three women around her and felt her own shoulders droop. The children had since gone to bed and without them around absolutely nobody was having any fun. Violet had been horrified a few days before when Freddie and Mary had been sent to bed for fighting, Freddie returned to the living room a few moments later brandishing a pair of Martha's knickerbockers that had been soaked in water and left in his bed. That was the kind of spirit Martha enjoyed, the adults would sooner put her to death from boredom. But then an idea happened across Mrs Levinson, a way in which she could find her much desired amusement. Her intention was to enjoy New Year's Eve. To acheive that, she decided it was about time she screwed with Violet.

When the men came in from the dining room they didn't find quite the sight they expected. Cora was face-down, star-fishing on the floor, Rosamund and Martha were waltzing around while Martha sang '12 Days of Christmas' and Violet clapped along and smiled like she'd not seen anything so entertaining in all her life.

"My God, Martha what did you _do_? We weren't even gone an hour!" Robert exclaimed, hurrying over to peel Cora off the floor, eyeing his mother in concern as he helped his wife up.

"And a partridge in a pear tree..." Martha broke off her song, whirling around with Rosamund and coming to stop before the other gentlemen. "Welcome to the fun emporium, your hostess with the mostest tonight is... that's right, Mrs Countess of the Grantham, Violet Grantham - I mean Crawley... Or do I?"

Violet laughed once, getting up from her seat and wobbling so slightly. "I a_m _Violet Crawley," she proclaimed. Patrick hurried over to her side, getting her to sit back down again.

"Violet, perhaps we should take you to bed now?"

"Oh calm down, Patrick she's only had a few glasses of that weird stuff you served with dinner. Give her five minutes and she'll be fine!" Martha called, wandering over to the sofa to sit herself beside Cora.

"Yes, Patrick, I'm quite fine," she frowned, hiccupped once and shook her head in surprise. "But do you know what is not fine? The family. The family is not fine, Patrick," she gripped his shoulder and stared at him quite intensely. Patrick watched her in alarm, aware that her angry phase of being drunk was just about to commence.

"Mama, I really think-"

"Hush, Robert. I am trying to s-peak!" Violet commanded, rising from the sofa once again. "Do you know why the family is not fine?"

Cora was half-passed out between Robert and Martha but her mother-in-law's next declaration proved plenty enough to rouse her.

"You! Both of you!" Violet jabbed her finger at Cora and Robert, hobbling forward a few paces. Patrick got up to keep her vertical.

"Come on, Violet. You've had too much to drink, you'll say something you'll regret-"

"I don't know how many times I warned Robert, an American just could not fill my shoes."

"Now wait, a moment mama-" Robert told her sternly, his arm tightening protectively around Cora who was squinting up at Violet in confusion.

"What have I done?" Cora asked in bewilderment.

"An heir! That's what you _haven't_ done!"

Cora's mouth dropped open. The room had gone quiet, even Violet was waiting for her response. A tear slid down Cora's cheek, she turned into Robert and hid away from the world in his arms.

"Mama, you really shouldn't have had so much to drink," Robert said quietly.

"How pathetic..." Violet slurred, blinking a few times before sitting herself down with Patrick's help.

"Pathetic? Is that what you called my wife?" Robert shouted, taking the others by surprise with his volume. "You don't know a thing about what's happened these last few days. You don't know that we might well have produced a boy..." Robert stopped himself.

"What do you mean?" Violet asked, getting more impatient.

"Cora miscarried on Christmas night," he told her, his anger fading as he felt Cora's grip on him lessen.

"I..." Violet began but, for once, had no words to say. Martha patted Cora's back in sympathy.

"Well since that's out in the open, anyone else want to share?" Martha asked, looking around expectantly.

"Why not?" Rosamund piped up, shoving past Marmaduke and flopping down on her parent's sofa. "I think Marmaduke is an arrogant, self-indulgent pig who only cares for me when he's horny."

Marmaduke's eyebrows shot up to his hair line.

"That's a little crude considering you're the one who's always up for it!" He retaliated, anger only just covering for the embarrassment she'd caused him in front of her family.

"Oh please, I endure it like any other woman."

"That's absolute nonsense!" He growled, preparing his best list of insults in his head but refraining when he realised how trivial their arguing must have looked to Cora and Robert, considering what they had just revealed. Rosamund seemed to realise too.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, love," Marmaduke sighed, running a hand through his hair. Rosamund got up from the sofa and dragged him off into the corner to talk to him privately.

"I owe an apology aswell," Violet said, gathering her head together. "I am sorry, Cora, I don't know quite what came over me."

"You're drunk," Martha smirked.

"That's alright, Violet," Cora answered, slowly coming out of Robert's embrace.

"What about you, you got something to share?" Martha jested her wine glass at Violet.

"Of course not, why would I?"

"You are far too quiet, at least half of what I say you haven't completely buried with English waffling."

"Perhaps I have been choosing not to listen," Violet suggested.

"Whatever, let's get this party started!" Martha declared. "How are the love bugs doing?" She asked, turning to find Rosamund with her back up against the wall while Marmaduke sucked half her face off. "Ah, kids these days. Are you alright, Cora dear?"

Cora nodded, a smile breaking on her face as she rubbed her eyes and yawned.

"Are you ready to go up?" Robert asked.

"Of course she's not. She's an American girl, she'll stay up til the new year! Let's get some whisky." Martha herded off to clatter around with the booze, ordering the footman off to get more wine and glasses.

Half an hour later, Violet and Patrick left the drawing room and made their way upstairs once Violet had gotten too dizzy to stand without help. Martha drained glass after glass of liquid and still held it better than any of the others. Marmaduke and Rosamund had assumed dancing while Martha serenaded for them. Cora was feeling a little more energetic with more alcohol flowing through her veins and she perched in Robert's lap re-telling the story of baby Jesus.

"So, basically. After Vagina Mary gave birth into the bathtub, all of the animals just... they just loved Jesus so much that they all gave him... Well, Robert you know what they give him?"

"What, dear?"

"They gave him a nice big kiss," she grabbed his cheeks and leant in for one. Robert chuckled, struggling to escape her. After getting what she wanted, Cora reclined in his arms, stretching her arms out across the sofa. "I feel so free, Robert!"

"That's great, Cora," he grinned, watching her wave her arms around.

Over by the fireplace, Marmaduke had finished dancing and he and Martha were settling up for a bet.

"I'll bet three fillys I can jump it," Marmaduke said, folding his arms as he looked at the distance between the sofa where Cora and Robert sat and the one opposite it.

"I bet you can't," Martha warned, walking over to observe the height of the glass table that sat between the sofas. "But I bet I can." Martha pulled up her skirts and shoved them into the waistband of her underwear, giving Marmaduke more than just an eyeful.

"You've got to beat her now!" Rosamund slapped his back.

"Alright," he huffed, rolling up his sleeves and hurrying over to the sofa opposite Robert and Cora's to stand next to Cora's mother on the furniture and prepare to jump.

"Hey, Robert!" Cora sat up suddenly. "Remember in the forest with the snow and the tree? There's a tree!" She cried in excitement, getting herself up and stumbling over to to where the Christmas tree stood.

"What?" Robert looked around, puzzled.

"Hey, do you think I can jump from here to that sofa, Robert?" Marmaduke asked. Robert's eyes bulged as he saw Martha readying herself to do the leap of faith - literally.

"I, err... I don't know." When he looked around to find Cora, she had climbed half way up the Christmas tree.

"Cora!"

She cackled wildly, trying to hoist herself higher.

"Push me up, Robert!"

"What? No!" He shouted, trying to pull her down by her waist but getting her bum in his face instead. Marmaduke jumped, Rosamund screamed as she watched, she fell backwards, grabbing the bell as she hit the wall.

"What can I do for you, my-" Carson looked around wide-eyed at the sight before him. Lord Downton had his arms around Lady Downton, her barely keeping balanced by sitting on his face while clinging to the christmas tree. Lady Rosamund was slumped against the floor, muttering something about French prose, Mr Painswick was hanging off the sofa in a most unusual way and the table that once stood between the sofas had somehow been shattered. And finally, there was Mrs Levinson. Carson had never thought the American woman a particularly elegant or wise person. He had never looked up to her nor been much respectful of her social graces. But what he had never expected was to find her standing on the sofa in a squatting position while her dress was bunched up in her bloomers, showing off some incredibly impressive thighs. Martha slowly turned her head around, guilt written all over her face.

"Mr Carson, I do believe you've walked in at a rather unfortunate moment," the woman in question said, slowly getting down from the sofa while eyeing him warily.

"Ow, Cora!" Robert was still trying to pull his wife down from the tree but she was managing to make it quite difficult.

"Do allow me to explain..."


	6. And The Bells Were Ringing Out

_And I give you the final chapter. This has been really fun to write, I have a longer one planned which I'll get out sometime next year so look out for that!  
_

* * *

**Chapter Six: And The Bells Were Out Ringing Out For Christmas Day**_**  
**__January 1st, 1900_

On the morning of January 1st 1900, Downton Abbey - as usual - was buzzing with activity both upstairs and down. In the kitchens, Mrs Patmoore and the kitchen maids were getting ready for the day, beginning on breakfast and preparing for the other meals of the day. A level up, Mr Carson kept the footmen in order while the maids hurried about and readied the rooms, tidying away all evidence of the night before. But then upstairs, the situation was entirely disorderly.

Violet's morning began very much off-script. She awoke to the new year with bright light from the window streaming in on her face, rousing her but also starting off the most horrific hangover she'd had since the Christmas before. She groaned in protest, rolling over and squinting, trying to make her sight re-focus. As she came to, Violet reached the realisation that she was in fact wearing no nightdress. A throaty gasp left her mouth, she clutched the sheets to her body and looked around in confusion.

"Easy dear," a voice belonging to a figure by the window said, turning from the outside view. "You needn't look so shocked... We are married."

Violet's eyes bulged as Patrick came into focus while he walked over to the bed wearing only his pjyama bottoms.

"I..." she swallowed, trying to make the awful taste in her mouth go away. "I don't recall much of last night."

Patrick grinned, sitting down on the bed beside her.

"I didn't think you would... But I do."

"Please enlighten me... Why does my head hurt so much?"

"Have some water," he offered, pouring a glass from the pitcher on the bedside table and handing it to her.

"Thank you," she took it from him, manouvering the sheet higher up around her chest. Patrick smiled, amused.

"Been a while, hasn't it? Since we did this."

"Honestly, I didn't think you were much interested after we'd had all the children we were going to have."

"Every man is interested, Violet. I thought it was the other way around."

Violet shook her head slowly, being such an unflappable woman, she seldom got humiliated and so it was a rare thing for Patrick to see the blush creeping up her neck.

"Oh no," she slapped a hand to her mouth.

"What?"

"I can remember now."

Patrick's grin widened and he looked at her expectantly as if to ask the unaskable question: 'How was it for you?'

Violet's mouth opened and closed, she looked away and then looked back at him and found she couldn't surpress her smile. She shook her head. Patrick took her glass and put it on the nightstand, he took her hands in his, insisting she meet his gaze.

"Thank you for last night, Violet."

"I, uh... It was a pleasure," she frowned at her own words. Patrick laughed.

"I wouldn't have had this life any other way if I had it to do over, you know? I know we never married for the right reasons. But still you've been my friend and wife and mothered my children for some 35 years and for that I'm more thankful than you know."

"Don't say your goodbyes to me now, Patrick," Violet told him, willing the emotion from showing on her face. "We have time yet."

"How much time is uncertain... I want to make sure nothing is left unsaid. And in that spirit, I have to tell you that even though you could barely stand when I got you up here last night... you've still got it, Vi."

* * *

"I wonder what mama's reaction to the broken table will be," Rosamund wondered, taking another drag from her pipe and staring off into space.

"I don't know but I'll be blamed," Marmaduke rolled over onto his side, his hand easing up her body and pulling at the sheet tucked around her chest, he began placing kisses to her neck.

"Well it _was_ your fault," Rosamund conversed, paying little attention to his affection and taking more interest in her pipe.

"I am sorry about last night," he told her, pausing for a moment. Rosamund looked down at him. "I mean, if I don't pay you enough unaffectionate attention I can work on that."

"Oh, I didn't mean everything I said," she ran her unoccupied hand through his hair. "I was just annoyed you decided to get drunk when you were supposed to be watching the children."

"It won't happen again, I didn't mean to get so out of it."

"It's alright, I think I can forgive you," she winked, lifting her arms and letting the sheet fall down to her waist, she laid back on the pillows and looked at him mischviously.

"Well, you know how I love being forgiven."

* * *

"How's your head?" Robert asked, sitting back on the pillows and watching Cora stir. She groaned in reply. "I thought as much."

"Why don't you feel as bad as I do?" His wife complained, hiding back under the pillows.

"I've been awake longer... and I didn't drink as much," he answered, rolling onto his side.

Cora sat up and cradled her head between her knees. Robert watched in slight amusement, recalling the events of the night before.

"Oh no, I'm going to..." She sprang out of bed and charged straight for the bathroom, not realising til she got there that she was completely nude.

Robert sat up, also in a similar state of undress, he wrapped a sheet around his waist, found Cora a dressing gown and went to knock on the door.

"Are you alright?" He called. Robert winced when he got wretching noises in response.

"Uh... no," she replied eventually.

"Will you let me come in?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm not wearing anything and I'm busy being sick, Robert."

"Well good news, I've seen sick before and I've also seen you in no clothes so we don't have a problem," he chuckled and went in, closing the door behind him and throwing Cora her dressing gown. She put it on and then sat on the floor, evidently distressed.

"All done?" Robert asked. She nodded, he went over to her and knelt down beside her, moving her hair out of her face. "Come back to bed, I had them bring some water up."

"Alright," she said resignedly, letting him help her up.

"Alright, come on tree monkey," he took most of her weight and half-carried her back into the bedroom.

"Why did you call me that?" She yawned in sleepy confusion.

"Why else? Your activities last night. Half of the tree's needles are in the dinner dress you wore."

"Oh..." She curled up with her head on Robert's chest and sighed. "Will we be expected at breakfast?"

"Breakfast? I shouldn't think so. The shooting luncheon, certainly." Cora grumbled and clung tighter to him. "Am I to take it a morning session is out of the question?"

"Mhm..."

"Poo."

* * *

Only Marmaduke, Rosamund and Martha made it to the table for breakfast that morning. Cora and Robert's absences were expected, but what their parents were up to was anybody's guess. Martha had appeared looking refreshed and revitalised, so much so that Rosamund and Marmaduke highly suspected her remedy methods. By the afternoon though, the family had returned to themselves. After the New Year's shoot and luncheon, the family returned to Downton. The ladies went for tea in the library with Mary, Edith and Sybil and the men, with Freddie, reclined in Patrick's study for pre-dinner port.

"Well, that was quite the New Year's Eve," Marmaduke commented, sitting back in one of the chairs opposite Patrick's desk.

"Quite indeed," Robert grinned. "Did you and Rosamund get down to breakfast?"

"Yes, we did. There were only us and Mrs Levinson there."

"Where did you get to, papa?" Robert asked.

"Seems it's been a while since me or your mother had quite such bad headaches from drinking. We were sleeping it off."

* * *

"Where did you and papa get to at breakfast, mama?" Rosamund was asking Violet the same question at tea in the library.

"We were sleeping off the effects of last night. Did I never teach you to mind your own business?"

Rosmaund's smile quirked higher as Violet tutted her. Again to Lady Grantham's dismay, the girls played around Cora. Mary was trying to keep Sybil still long enough to put her curly hair into bunches and Edith was doing the same on Patricia the doll. Cora worried slightly that Edith spent a bit too much time with that doll.

"You seemed to enjoy last night, Violet," Martha said, sipping from her tea cup with a mischevious glint in her eye that suggested more meaning to her words.

"One always enjoys New Year, it's the time to repent on one's sins," Violet replied. "I trust you had plenty to ask forgiveness for?"

"Not so much as you might think."

"Oh really..."

"Well, to say it's been a typically cold and wet Christmas, I think it's been a good one," Rosamund piped up.

"I agree," Cora said, leaning forward in her seat to pick up Sybil who had managed to escape Mary and was tugging at her skirts. "It's one to remember."

"I doubt I'll remember it for the right reasons," Martha guffawed. Cora and Rosamund exchanged a glance and tried to hang onto their giggles. Sybil clung onto Cora's neck while Mary threatened to approach with the hair brush.

"I think we can toast to a good one," Rosamund said.

"Yes, let's," Martha rose her tea cup in jest.

"With tea?" Violet asked as though in offence.

"Would you prefer I asked Mr Carson to get us some wine?" Martha tilted her head, grinning when Violet screwed up her face at the idea.

"I'll toast," Cora volunteered.

Rosamund, Martha and Cora held their tea cups together across the table, all looking at Violet to see if she'd join in.

"Oh, alright," she raised her cup and clinked it with the others, setting it back in the saucer. "To a successful Christmas."

* * *

"Well, gentlemen," Patrick said, getting out of his chair. "Who knows what next Christmas will be like, but this has been one of the best ones, I think. Despite Robert and Cora's loss, of course."

There was a moment of quiet before Marmaduke got out of his chair.

"Shall we toast with the lad then?"

"Of course," Patrick nodded. "Let him have a drop of whisky in some water."

Marmaduke prepared Freddie a drink and handed it to him. They all stood together and held their glasses ready.

"Gentlemen, the Queen," Patrick announced, they clinked their glasses together and chucked back their drinks. Freddie tried not to splutter.

"We've got to do another to Christmas," Robert decided.

"Alright," Patrick nodded, passing round the decanter. They held their glasses together again. "Gentlemen... to getting the women into bed."

* * *

_I wish you all the very most wicked-awesome Christmas. Thank you all for reading and reviewing,_

_Tallulah x  
_


	7. I Turned My Face Away

_Wait! What is thus? Well reader, I will tell you what thus is. It's my surprise Christmas chapter. But I was a bit disorganised so it became my surprise New Year's chapter. No surprises, I got twatted on New Year's so I've just published it now instead. But we can pretend it's Christmas again, right? :) So, in comparison to most of this story, the mood is a bit heavy but hopefully you'll like it anyway. Oh yeah, and I've shifted a few dates and stuff around like Patrick's death and Robert's years in service. That's all! Happy reading!_**  
**

* * *

******Chapter Seven: I Turned My Face Away And Dreamed About You  
**2nd January, 1900_  
_

_"Cora, we talked about this, we knew it would probably happen-"_

_"We agreed not to talk about it until after Christmas."_

_"It is after Christmas."_

_"But the children, Robert-"_

_"Cora, I know you're not just arguing for the children..." _

* * *

**24th January, 1900**

"Cora dear."

"A bit late to be paying a social call, isn't it?"

"My maid woke me when she heard the news."

"I haven't got much more information for you. Or at least you'd have been informed had I received a telegram."

Violet shook her head and moved over to sit beside the fire with her daughter-in-law. Still so young, Violet thought. Too young to lose her husband at any rate. But when was there ever a right age to suffer such grief? She lost hers but a week ago. Even worse, it was the day after Robert left. Stubborn Patrick. Maybe if he'd let the children know how ill he'd been it could have kept Robert at Downton longer. Heavens knows she tried all else.

After all the years Robert had been married to the American, Violet had never felt true sympathy or even cared much for the girl. For the first time, on the day that Robert's train left, Violet could actually relate to how Cora felt.

* * *

_Violet stood on the train platform feeling somewhat like a spare part. And Violet hated feeling like she had no place, thankfully the feeling didn't settle upon her often. She stood on the concrete beside Mary and Edith. Two maids close by with Sybil in the pram. The family gathered a few feet from Cora and Robert. They had all had their turn saying goodbye, now they waited to wave him off. Instead of training her eyes on her son, who possibly she might not see again, Violet looked at Robert's wife. Cora was holding onto tears, her hands were moving from his face, down his chest and back up again. She was feeling as much as she could of him while she still had the chance. Robert stilled her hands and nuzzled his nose against hers, resting their foreheads against the others while he spoke things Violet couldn't hear. A loud, echoing whistle told the train was just around the next corner of the track. Cora was violently shaking her head and to Violet appeared to be uttering, 'no, no, no.'  
_

_"Where's papa going?" _

_Edith, ever inquisitive asked the easiest question with the hardest answer.  
_

_"He has to go away for a while," Violet said absently. She was watching Cora struggle with her tears. Robert was shaking his head and likely declaring his love. Cora's knuckles had gone white with clinging to the collar of his shirt. Violet prepared to feel nauseous as the couple no doubt would display some public affection. As the train came into the platform, the pistons gradually slowed and the heavy chuffing eventually stopped with a loud resonating hiss. When all the steam cleared, she squinted back to where Cora and Robert stood. They were kissing. Not intimately but... endearingly. Was that the word? It looked... soft and sweet and somewhat strangely beautiful to Violet. A surprising notion happened across her mind that she was in fact just a little bit jealous. She'd never been in love, not really. Never properly given her heart to a man - afterall she gave up that hope when she married Patrick. Cora at least knew how to be in love.  
_

_Violet felt a few tears escape her eyes when the conductor blew his whistle and called them all aboard. Robert stole one more kiss from Cora, whispered a hurried 'I love you' and got on his train. He stuck his head out of the window and called back.  
_

_"I'll miss you, look after them mama."  
_

* * *

"Robert asked me to look after you all and that is what I'm trying to do," she said, sitting there in just her nightdress as thoughts of Robert's leave passed by her mind.

"All due respect Violet, I don't think there's much you can do for me."

"I may not be practical in way of emotion but there are things I can do. I believe you've under-estimated just what it takes to run this house."

"Ah, I see." Cora says, nodding. "When Robert said 'look after them' you took that to mean 'help them'."

"Is there a difference?" Violet quirked her head to the side, watching her daughter-in-law hopelessly pining for Robert. Violet had every faith he would return, thousands of troops were being deployed every day - what chance was there that Robert would be of those returning on a stretcher -or worse, in a box? Besides there was the fact he had status as an Earl now.

"You know, he didn't even tell me he was training up when he went away just before Christmas," Cora again was staring off into space, clearly replaying a conversation in her mind. Violet had to admit her a little sympathy that Robert hadn't been entirely forward about his going off to war.

"Cora dear," Violet released an exasperated sigh. "In these times, do you know what the English do best?"

"I'm not English - as you so often relish in pointing out."

"You have lived here over half your life, married an Englishman, produced English children and lived in an English house have you not?" No response. "We buck up and accept it, is what we do. We pray they'll come home and we do not mourn until we have reason to do so. Now, I am just as concerned about Robert as you are but not letting life go on here will not help things for him over there."

"Have you not heard how many there are dead? Injured? Have you not heard that the numbers are due to rise come morning?"

"Cora, calm yourself."

"No, I won't calm myself. My husband is out there because he was too damn British proud to realise he should have stayed here and done his other bloody duty to Downton. I know your husband is dead Violet but mine isn't yet so if you wouldn't mind keeping your advice to yourself-" Cora faltered, looking down at her hands, suddenly embarrassed by her outburst. "I'm... Violet, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

"Well I appreciate the apology but really, like I would be offended by your American hysterics," the new Dowager Countess turned her nose up and tutted. "I know you miss him terribly but until morning, I doubt worrying will help the situation."

"I can't sleep."

"Mm, nor me. I don't tend to sit around in my night dress for nothing... How about a sherry?"

Cora smiled and shook her head, for a moment forgetting her troubles while her mother-in-law unknowingly amused her.

"I'll have them get the proper glasses out - copitas," Violet tried to persuade her.

"Copitas?"

"Carson!"

"Violet, Mr Carson is asleep."

"Well then maybe I woke him up," she shrugged and heaved herself from her chair, walking over to the drinks cabinet to rattle around in Patrick's old desk. "Ah, whiskey. Probably saving it for a rainy day. Can you drink it without water?"

"Right now I can drink anything without water..." Cora replied, then frowning at her own words and pondering whether or not they made sense.

"To Robert's safe return," Violet said, handing Cora a tumbler with an inch of golden liquid sitting in the bottom of it.

"To Robert's safe return."

* * *

Across the Tugela River in the young hours of January 25th, a soldier wheezed for air as his breathing finally began to slow. He'd been able to hear his own heart beating in his ears the whole day, racing at an increased ten and twentyfold to usual relaxed rate. His own men had been put to rest in the same mud he'd fallen down and fought in a few hours earlier. After numerous confusions and contradictions to orders, finally it seemed there was some sense among his fellow officers. Hind-sight revealed the day had seen a poor show for communication.

"Brace yourself, officer," the Lieutenant, friendly with the soldier, warned him.

"And I thought we'd seen the worst of it."

"'Fraid we get a telling off from the General first."

"I'd sooner go looking for Batman."

"Bates not shown yet?"

"He must be around here somewhere."

"You better write to your missus too, stop the family worrying."

"They'll have heard about it already?" Robert felt a surge of dread for Cora. Not a month gone and already he'd launched into the thick of brutal fighting. He couldn't imagine what the waiting must be like.

"News travels fast Creeps."

"Spaniel and Creepy Crawly, get your arses and your bayonets over here," the Major, a tall and intimidating breed of man, barked at the Lieutenant and his Second as he tried to gather all officers.

The number of dead was relatively symmetrical on both sides, it seemed. But the number of wounded exceeded most expectations. Robert had only just had a glimpse of war and he felt both thrilled and terrified by the experience. The knowledge that Cora was at home awaiting his return cast his courage in iron. She could melt it away when next they met. In the later hours of that day, Robert put pen to paper and sent off his words in that evening's post collection.

* * *

**5th February, 1900**

Sitting at the breakfast table, a letter came. The third one since he left and the first of many holding love and sincerity that would flood Cora's daily morning post. Relief washed through her tired body and settled her worries - if only momentarily, that he had survived January 24th.

_25th January '00  
_

_My darling Cora, _

_It's barely been a month and already I've witnessed truly what the worst of this war can do. It's purely unimaginable. Two certainties keep me going and keep me fighting while I'm out here. The first is that any one of these men would die for me, without question - as I would for them. The second is that I know you wait for me. I don't want to worry you, though I know you must anyway, I can't imagine the situation for you. I barely even asked you if you could let me go. It somehow feels selfish that I've chosen this so eagerly. Darling, know that all I wanted was to do my part for my country. I'm out here as much for England and our Queen as I am for you and our three dearest daughters.  
_

_I will come back to you, Cora, I promise that. I want to keep my promises to you. Sometimes at night, in the few hours of sleep that exhaustion gives me, I dream I'm on a train. There's steam from the train everywhere and when it lifts, there's nobody else there, I'm not on the train anymore. I see that small wooden sign on the platform that reads 'Downton'. But then, my love, I see you. When I wake up the dream shatters. But I have our memories. We will have more, I know it. One day I will come in on that train and I will be home to stay. Remember how I was telling you I'd been promised a commission to Second Lieutenant before I left? I think that was the fight we had when you threw Savrola by Chruchill at me - I'm glad you didn't pick a heavier book. Anyway, recently I got the document making it official. I think particularly it's been hurried up now that I've inherited. I know I'll miss papa's funeral, but I might be entitled to some leave in a few months.  
_

_Talking of papa, has mama moved out of Downton? She always threatened that she'd not been thrown out of her own home but I did write to her about Downton Place. I can write her again if she's troubling you, though I imagine she'll be a bit more subdued with grief. Naturally, she didn't go into huge detail about papa's death. I struggle to believe it myself. This place puts a strange barrier between the life that I have at home and what I now live in. I don't shirk from doing my part but it does feel disgraceful that as human beings we can't resolve things without all of this. Today as the light came up the sight was unbearable. The effects of yesterday's discoordination are drastic. It looks far worse in morning daylight than under the shadow of grey mist.  
_

_I can't let myself believe I will die out here or I will. But Cora if I do, I'm sorry we argued so much before. I wish we'd not wasted time with that. Though I can understand why you were angry. I know I went about it all wrong. I signed up without your knowing, I barely gave you weeks to adjust to the idea. And so soon after Christmas and loosing our child. I've left you alone and I didn't stop to consider that you wouldn't immediately be proud of me. I love you and our three beautiful daughters and I can't imagine not seeing each of them grow up and doing you and I proud. We've witnessed every bit of each other's lives this last 11 years and forever I will be grateful that it is you that taught me how to love. I want to go on learning about you, being with you, loving you. I hope you're not worried by my sudden burst of sentiment and written devotion, I just need to know you know these things from me.  
_

_I'm sorry I'm not there to help take the weight of our new roles and titles now the viscountship is over. But when I return I'll do everything I can to do right by Downton and by you. We'll be what we knew we some day would become. You will always be my charming, witty, beautiful, somewhat undeniably American, funny, darling Cora. And when I come home to you you'll be my Countess too. That thought really makes me want to take you to bed. I wish I hadn't admitted that now but I can't very well scribble it out, it'll look untidy. _

_I'll be writing you soon, don't take long to reply. Each of your letters brings me back to you, if only for a few minutes while I read your news. Send my love to Mary, Edith and Sybil - glad to hear mama got round two from Sybil. I would say I wish I'd been there to see the poo explosion on mama's favourite frock but honestly, I think I'm glad I missed out on that! _

_All my love and always yours,  
_

_Robert_

* * *

Some years later, Cora happened across the large stash of weary old mud-splattered letters again. She never had the heart to throw them out, though she knew Robert probably didn't still have his collection of hers. Two years passed by before the war let go of her husband and let Cora reclaim him for hers. During that time a tot of sherry with Violet became a frequent of nightly routine, though when Robert returned it quickly stopped when Violet announced her moving to the Dower House. The children grew and learnt to appreciate their father while he was on short leave and especially when he eventually came home for good. And Robert and Cora went on with life as Earl and Countess of Grantham, as Robert had told they would.

It had been a long time since Cora had re-read her letters. Only rarely did she need to read and re-live those years without Robert to remind herself of just how grateful she ought to be for him. As long as she knew she had those letters, Cora could never lose sight of what their life together meant. Though it wasn't as easy for Robert, she knew. But at the end of the day he would always come home to her. He had done his duty to his country, given his life to Downton, devoted himself to his three daughters and given Cora what he had promised - a title, an estate, a good life. He even returned her love. That would always be what mattered most to Cora. _Always._ Such a close likeness to 'forever'. Forever felt like the seal to an ending to Cora.

This life was her fairytale afterall. And happy endings are the trademark of fairytales, are they not?

* * *

_There we have it. I hope everyone had a splendid Christmas and enjoyed New Years as much as I did. Happy 2013 everybody!  
_

_Tallulah... now called Nova Super... Just to confuse people. x  
_


End file.
